


la neige douce dans l'hiver

by ClementineKitten



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: "hey clem you should write more often" no, F/F, F/M, i'm working on more stories don't you worry, the title's in french because i can speak it yeet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-29
Updated: 2018-05-29
Packaged: 2019-05-15 17:43:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14795021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClementineKitten/pseuds/ClementineKitten
Summary: Saihara takes a moment to appreciate his friends. Or, "The Saihara Defense Squad."





	la neige douce dans l'hiver

White, powdery flakes danced all around Saihara as snow fell softly and gently from the grey sky spiraling above him. He dug his heel into the thin layer of whiteness that had formed on the sidewalk, trying to compact his body as much as possible. He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and suppressed a shiver. It was cold.

He wished that Kaede was with him. Her presence was enough to light up the room, fill everyone with a pure warmth that started in their chest and spread throughout their body. He cracked a smile at the thought of her and her melodious voice, her stubborn words, her bright eyes that crackled with her emotions.

But alas, he walked the dreary, grey sidewalk alone, free from all company. He lifted his chin slightly to glance at the snow drifting down around him. Few people walked the streets; he assumed they were driven back to their homes by the unconventional temperatures. He saw what he assumed to be a mother and her child, the latter leading the former around and shouting with an excited expression on their face. The corners of Saihara’s mouth softened at the display. 

Ah, how he hated to go on strolls alone. Nothing could distract him from his thoughts. Walking with Kaito was always a fun time, because he filled the dead air with so much noise and so many ideas that all of Saihara’s intrusive thoughts were weaseled out of his mind. His voice, his body, his personality… Everything about him was just so _big_. There wasn’t one person who felt down about themselves after spending time with Kaito. He was that infectiously positive.

Even Maki, Saihara figured. Though Kaito’s presence in her life had certainly mellowed her out, she still remained standoffish and quiet. Not that her hard outer shell was necessarily a bad thing; Saihara enjoyed her company. She was somewhat of a “don’t ask, don’t tell,” in which she didn’t pry from Saihara as long as she wasn’t put in an uncomfortable position by him. Either way, being out with her was, in a sense, pleasant. The sound of her breathing and the crunch of her boots in the snow was enough to remind Saihara that he wasn’t alone, and that he had her quiet support, no matter the roundabout way she showed it,

“Hey, Mister.”

A voice drew Saihara out of his appreciation for his friend’s company. His gaze fell to what appeared to be a young girl, clutching a piece of paper in her fist. “What is it?” Saihara indulged her. The girl shifted her weight from foot to foot and thrust the paper she was holding in front of the blue-haired boy’s face. 

“Have you seen my dog? He got out this morning.” Saihara bent down slightly and peered at the picture. It was a photo of a lean dog, with brown and white colouring.

“I’m sorry. Can’t say I have.” The girl’s arms dropped to her side and she pouted. Saihara felt a pang of sympathy. “Hey, your doggie probably doesn’t wanna be out in the cold, right? He might have gone somewhere you’ve been with him before. Like… a park. Or neighbourhood!” he added. The girl met his eyes with an adamant look, like she was deep in thought.

“I guess so.” Her gaze fell again before she perked back up. “Thanks a lot, Mister!”

“No problem.” Saihara offered a wave and a small smile as the child sped away. “I hope you find your dog!” he called after her. She threw her arm in the air in acknowledgment. Saihara bid her farewell and returned on his walk, rounding a crescent and starting back to his shared house. 

He stifled an eye roll as he thought of Ouma- the boy served as a good distraction, but not always as a _good distraction._ His words tended to rush from his mouth, though you could never tell if they were genuine, if he had thought them through or was just saying what came to mind.

Despite all of his qualms with the boy, _he_ would be the liar if he said things didn’t feel wrong without him. A certain fondness filled him, which was almost always followed by a pain in the pit of his stomach when he realized, _oh God, I hope Ouma can’t hear that I’m praising him in my thoughts._

Saihara realized that all of his friends saved him from himself, even when it was as simple as going out with him. It was good to be aware of your conscious and mind, but always being berated with your own intrusive thoughts led to bouts of self-doubt and anxiety. 

Not that the anxiety and self-doubt ever went away, but that they were, say, amplified, when he was left to his own devices.

If Kaito were with him, he’d probably say something like “ _If you’re so caught up in what’s happening inside, all of the wonderful things on the outside will pass you by._ ”

Augh, he wasn’t good at this. Kaito was _one hundred-percent_ better at the motivational stuff. Which is why Saihara tended to keep quiet when Kaito preached to him and Maki, and the him and the latter would share a knowing look. With a hidden smile, Saihara tucked his mouth back into his scarf, fending off a particularly harsh wind that stuck him.

It was funny how often Kaito crossed Saihara’s mind. It hadn’t been too long since he had last seen him. And he’d see him again soon enough, Saihara was sure.

He let out a sigh as his boots crunched against the thin layer of snow, so lost in thought that the weather had seemed to lessen in intensity. He was also so wound up in his own mind that he hadn’t realize he was coming upon his home- a boring looking white and dark blue house. Yet, the sight was still comforting; the weather was unpleasant, and although it was important to get some air and exercise, he was looking forward to going back to sulk in the heated area.

His eyes fell to the sidewalk. It was pretty quiet out- it usually was this side of the city. Saihara appreciated the reprieve from the hustle and bustle of the downtown area, where there were four conspicuous head shops and at least twenty people screaming into their cell phone at any given time. He didn’t want to be near it.

He rounded a corner and his house was only a few bounds away. He lingered at the sidewalk for a moment before he cast a quick glance right and left, then crossed the street.

His feet took him to the stop of the stairs that led to his door. Saihara paused for a moment before knocking three times on the door.

“I’m home!” he called to his housemates. Then he retrieved his keys from one of his pockets and quietly unlocked the door, stepping inside.

There he saw Himiko and Maki curled up on the couch, Himiko’s nose buried in the crook of Maki’s elbow. Saihara could hear her sobbing as her tiny frame trembled. Saihara quickly locked the door and slid beside Maki on the couch.

“What’s wrong, Yumeno?” he asked. Himiko inhaled sharply, her eyes red from the tears. Maki’s eyes didn’t bear the same telltale colour, but she looked tired. Worn down. Another sob wracked Himiko’s body as she pressed further into Maki.

“Too many intrusive memories.” Maki’s words were slow, solemn. Himiko sucked in her breath, biting her lip. Saihara reached forward and rubbed her on the shoulder.

“It’ll be okay, Yumeno.” The girl’s response to Saihara’s words of comfort were a few more trembling cries, balling the fabric of Maki’s sweater into her fists. Maki’s mouth flattened into a line, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she patted her on her back, and turned her face to Saihara.

“It won’t all be okay, Saihara,” she said, a cold tone harshing her words. “There’s no way this could all be okay.” Her gaze turned back to Himiko, who tilted her chin upwards to look at the speaking girl. Her face was blotchy and red, eyelashes dark with tears. Maki continued, “but we survived.”

Himiko nustled further into Maki, while Saihara held her gently. “Why couldn’t it’ve been me? Instead of Tenko… Or Angie…” Her voice dropped a few decibels. “Why th-them…?” Maki frowned plaintively.

“Stop thinking so much about our pasts, and think of what you can do now.” The words stumbled a bit as they came out of her mouth, and it was clear that Maki struggled with imparting comforting words, but she was doing her best. “Things will… Get better, but not it you don’t strive for it.” Her unsure gaze shifted to Saihara, who gave her a slight nod. Himiko drew her sleeve over her eyes.

“I… I guess.” Himiko’s voice trailed off. She looked up at Maki. “Wow, H-Harukawa… Just a few days ago, you would’ve been insulting me… For, you know…” She gestured to her reddened face. Maki shrugged half-heartedly.

“I guess I changed.” A sigh fell from her lips. “Didn’t think it was possible.”

“Well…” Saihara started off slowly, a sickening feeling of nausea unfurling in his stomach. “The impossible is possible, right?”

Maki’s eyes met his. Pain flashed in the pale burgundy depths before she produced a small, weak smile. “All you gotta do,” she followed up, tightening her grip on Himiko, “is make it so.”

**Author's Note:**

> did i get you? vote now on your phones  
> i've wanted to write a story where it's like "oh saihara is talking about his friends like they're all alive but they're actually dead and this is post v3" for a long time, but it's quite hard to do. it's difficult to write a story without it being so overt, but i decided to go with melancholic subtext before it whips ya around at the end. but if you got to the end still thinking it was all good and dandy, good job? either way, the end of v3 makes me feel sad because SAIHARA LOST SO MUCH MY POOR BOY  
> also, as i was editing this, i was watching johneawesome, and he said "i hate danganronpa so much" (during chiaki's execution) which is honestly a Big Mood  
> "hey clem, will you ever write a story that's not from saihara's perspective?" no, because being a fellow depressed and anxious bisexual in love with kaito and kaede, saihara is too similar to me to not write as.  
> speaking of which, i am working on a not so angst-y story. it's post college au, so they're not in school, but they're just as ridiculous. and it's got ouma, and we collectively all nut 4 ouma. yeet, my guys. yeet.   
> my grammar in the title could be off, don't yell at me. pretty sure that doux/douce follows the noun, though.


End file.
